Color of Pain and Taste of Happiness
by VellichorNunu
Summary: From a writing prompt I saw on Pinterest: Write about the color of pain and the taste of happiness.
1. Chapter 1 : Blue and Black

Chapter 1 : Blue and Black

Her vision was blurred and everything in the dark room she was in seemed spinning. Parts of her arms and legs felt numb from extreme pain and swollen yet a couple of places were surprisingly warm. A figure, that's all she can see with her fuzzy eyes. She instinctively curled into a ball resembling a porcupine trying to protect herself from what she fearfully thought would happen next.

"No no no! You have to stay awake!" A warm spot on her arm became rather void when the boy's hand let go of his gentle hold. He lightly slapped her cheek a couple of times with his now free hand to keep her from succumbing to exhaustion and fatigue.

" _He_ just left. We can't waste another minute." He said with a sense of urgency. She drew in a weak breath, her eyes fluttered. She turned her head to the sound of the familiar voice. With the remaining strength she had, she feebly propped herself up to her feet. This is her chance; there is no time to waste just like he said.

The boy, skinny yet strong, held his gaze, matching the same intensity of her blue orbs, as he guided her across the dark bare room and out the door. His sad cornflower blue eyes were sincere and protective of her. What she didn't see were guilt and misery.

She paused by the door, apprehensive of what she might see on the hallway. But with the reassuring nod of the lad, she started her limping steps to freedom.

The damp earth caused by the rain hours ago smelled delightful to her nostrils. With eyes closed, she stood slightly taller and inhaled in as much as she could. Just minutes ago, only her sweat and nervous fear and _his_ lingering alcohol were all she could breathe in in that dark room she had just escaped. Her bare left foot dug a little deeper to the soil, relishing the exterior of her so called prison and the liberty she finally attained.

Looking at her, his eyes softened and a sad smile spread across the boy's face. The simple joys she was taking in at that moment were for him to take as well. Though she had gone through worse than him, her will for survival is tantamount to his. It never faltered, it never dissipated. No matter how many blows her slender body had cushioned. No matter that her skin had turned from soft milky white to bumpy swollen patches of black and blue. Several months ago, after receiving the fifth strike, he silently vowed to himself and to her that he would find a way to break away from this hell hole they thought was home.

And with that memory, his consciousness was reeled back to reality. _Not a single minute must be wasted._ He thought as his smile disappeared. With his hand securing her balance around her waist, he tapped her hip. She looked at him with understanding when he nodded his head to signal that they must continue to flee.

TBC... Sorry for the short first chapter. I'll upload the next one as soon as I can. Please R and R. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2 : Amber and Gold

A/N: Sorry it took me almost a month to upload the second chapter. I had a series of unfortunate events that made writing impossible.

Many thanks to those who read the first chapter with or without leaving a review. But the reviews posted were greatly appreciated. :)

I hope this chapter is not too dark. Please let me know what you think. And criticisms are welcome for improvement.

* * *

Chapter 2 : Amber and Gold

The anticipated May showers had been relentless that year. The month was half way through and there were more fingers on one hand than the number of fair days they had. The cold rain with the cold air was perfect excuse for yearning of a good bottle of whiskey: bourbon, scotch, and rye – his three most favorite things. Not long ago, it used to be his faith, his family, and music. But after the tragedy, anger, resentment, and misery clouded his judgment, his life, and his will to live. With all these three, his morale had spiraled down to the lowest low. He started with a few glasses to drown his day to day sorrow. The few glasses did not satisfy him enough until eventually he settled with three bottles daily. After the third, he would be too drunk to swig another and would succumb to a drunken sleep. When he awoken from either a good or a bad dream, his rage and madness came back to resurface. The kind and loving gentleman he used to be had changed; he had become his own and Maria's worst living nightmare.

Three bottles of whiskey was his threshold. But today was special; a day he ought to remember yet wanted to forget. So he grabbed another bottle, the last one hidden far back in the cupboard. The fourth bottle was pushing him over to his limits. He woozily loosened the cap and guzzled even when his head was already spinning out of control. What happened next was literally a blur to him. He ought to finish his last bottle but surrendered nonetheless. With eyelids dropping and legs hobbling, he slumped over the kitchen chair and the right side of his face fell on the table with a thud. A mere hour had passed since he closed his eyes when suddenly the clatter of a broken porcelain plate jolted him upright. The half empty bottle toppled over and spilled the remaining contents on the table, snaked to the edge, cascaded down on the floor like a waterfall. The drunken man instantaneously saw red when his precious amber liquid had gone to waste.

The girl gasped. The expression on his face caused Maria to stumble as she stepped back to regain a safer distance between her and the mad man. For almost three years, she knew how this would play out. As the man stood up and squared his shoulders with fury in his eyes, Maria attempted another step back but stopped by the wall. She was cornered with the cupboards and kitchen counter on her left and the table on her right.

After a couple of infuriated steps, SMACK! The sound heard made by his calloused hand on her cheek. "You imbecile little twit!" he grunted.

"I'm very sorry Uh-Uh-Uncle. I…I didn't mean to." Maria stammered with fright. The least thing she wanted to do was upset him. She knew she would pay with a great amount of beating if she upset him.

"You…better clean this mess Maria…. and get me another one," he barked at her with a drunken slur.

She instantly and unconsciously agreed just to please his wants. Immediately Maria was on her knees picking up the broken pieces of the porcelain plate she dropped. Then she hurriedly untied the apron from the back of her waist to use as a rag to clean up the spilled amber liquor on the floor.

"Hurry up! Get me another one from the cupboard!"

She stood up swiftly and dumped her dirty apron and fragments of the plates in the sink. Then she reached inside the cupboard with an agitated expression. Nothing. She knew there was one in there. She touched the four corners of the cupboard to make sure and there was not a single bottle left. The worry intensified in her.

"I AM WAI-TING MARIA!"

She couldn't believe it. "None…" She blurted out louder than she intended to.

"WHAT-DID-YOU-SAY?" He asked with an eyebrow raised and his jaws set.

* * *

Dark grey clouds loomed before he left his house – before he left her lying lividly on the concrete floor. He didn't intend to make her suffer this much. In the small corner of his brains still lied a tiny amount of logic, she was family after all. Despite that, each time he looked at her, he was reminded of the very thing he longed to have yet had lost.

Even in his neurotic state and drunken stupor, he felt guilty after every hits and punches he threw at her. But he had become a mad man. Nothing made sense. He did not want to be alone in his misery. Nothing could bring back his purpose to live. He was a coward to continue living his life after the tragedy. And he was a coward not to end it either. The tremendous emotional pain he felt manifested in violence, with the girl as his poor victim.

 _Innocent and sweet little Maria, at the tender age of seven she spent her birthday sadly on the same day she laid to rest both her parents, when one after the other lost their battle to nephritis following Scarlet fever. There was no one but herself weeping and grieving as the pallbearers marched to her beloved parents' final resting place. There with her in the saddest moment of her life were the priest and eight pallbearers, a total of nine other people – nine strangers. All of whom could only watch her with sincere sympathy as she clutch her mother's favorite handkerchief in one hand and the gold cross pendant and necklace her father had given her in the other closer to her chest, all the while pouring her heart out under the pouring rain._

 _Within the following days after her parents had passed away, priests, clergymen, and nuns were assisting her in every way they could. Persons of faith were always present in her life for her mother served as a cook in the seminary and her father was the milkman for the nunnery. Since then she was officially an orphan, they had to contact the remaining family she had – Uncle Hersch._

 _Hersch was a good uncle to Maria when she was younger. She remembered the holidays he would come to visit and stay in their humble home and sang merry songs. Her father would always bring out the guitar the day before, clean and tune it for the days Hersch would spend with them. He was witty and doting uncle – just the kind you would want to have especially if he was the only one. The last Christmas before Maria's parents' died, he was in Germany and just had met a lovely lady, to whom soon he would be betrothed. Although their courtship was short, their love was undoubtedly pure and true. They had planned their wedding to be held on the following year's 15_ _th_ _of May in Germany, where Maria and both her parents should have been if not for the unfortunate contract of Scarlet fever._

 _It happened so quickly, within a matter of close to three weeks, Maria was suddenly an orphan and in the guardianship of her uncle. Her mother was the first sufferer. Her father had asked the nuns in the abbey to take in Maria temporarily to keep her safe. He had stayed behind to tend to his wife but he had caught it within just a few days. With husband and wife hanging by a thread, as days passed by the house was littered with filthy linens, spoiled and unfinished food, vomit, and bloody urine. Two days before their final breath, a nun from the abbey paid the husband and wife a visit. It was an understatement to say that the said nun was shocked when she opened the door and uncovered the stank and mess of the house, and worse of it were the hollowed faces and deteriorating health condition of Maria's parents. She ought to be trusting of the miracles of the Lord, but the moment she saw two pairs of empty eyes, only death and eternal peace can save them._

 _If only Hersch knew of the family's situation, he would have been there even just in time for the funeral. But he was only informed after the deaths and not left him enough time to be next to the weeping Maria. The couple had to be buried within the next 48 hours. By the time he received the devastating news, it was the time they were laid to rest._

Hersch walked out of the house with the purpose to satiate his thirst. He wanted – no, he desperately needed to drink away everything that had happened. Not just the past, but the horrendous thing he had just done. When the almost thirteen year old girl accidentally woke him up from his drunken sleep, he was immediately enraged. His inebriation was his escape and she cut it short just when he needed it most.

He celebrated this day happily for three years a long time ago. Ofcourse, there was someone else to celebrate it with. But the fourth year came, so did the fifth and now the sixth year and it was only him left to remember. Hersch, the childless widow and guardian of his only niece, gripped tightly the gold cross pendant and necklace he confiscated with extreme force that the possessor was left beaten and unconscious on the floor.

* * *

Another A/N: About the whiskey, I've never had it and it's been a long time (almost 5 years) since I had a drink (last one was just a bottle of beer or wine, can't remember). So I wasn't sure about how much a drunkard can tolerate. So for this story, three is the limit. :P

OT: If any of you are within the NYC area, please go see the off-broadway play Terezin by Nicholas Tolkien. I just saw it this Sunday and it was great! :)


	3. Chapter 3 : Red, White, and Blue

Chapter 3 : Red, White, and Blue

Walking up the muddy hill, he kept reminding himself of the only reason he had come back. He would be disgusted to even recall memories of this place if not for her. She was still in there and he promised he would take her out of that place of torment. And he never backed down from a promise, especially made to her.

Two years ago he was as helpless as she was. After a year of unwillingly becoming a punching bag, he decided enough is enough. He escaped _his_ cruel hands but she didn't. She declined to make the escape with him despite his pleas and rational reasoning. She remained. He knew her unconditional love for her only family was her unspoken explanation. He found it absurd and ludicrous of her to stay when the environment was uninhabitable.

But that was one of the many reasons he admired of her. She had a great capacity to love, pure and unreserved. She was always looking at the brighter side of everything even when situations were dim and bleak. She taught him that every person was born kind and loving. The emotional reaction is a factor in how we move forward from a situation. And when it becomes overwhelming, sometimes we get trapped forgetting that it should not get the better of us. She believed not because the man is cruel now means he had been cruel his whole life.

* * *

The lad had woken up that morning with an uneasy feeling in his gut. Nothing was amiss in the four corners of his tiny quarters in his employer's estate. Yet there was an indescribable feeling that a terrible thing was about to happen or for him soon to find out. He could only think of the girl he left behind – Maria. He whispered a silent prayer for her then went on his way to inform the man of the house that he will spend his Sunday outside the Aigen district of Salzburg. Before he was dismissed by his employer, a lieutenant of the Imperial Navy, he was reminded to come back before sundown. After all, he was still a boy and his welfare was the Lieutenant's concern.

Since it was Sunday, the buses came on longer intervals. He barely missed one so he needed to wait for almost another hour for the next to come. But Mother Nature had been merciless since the beginning of the month. The grey clouds swiftly rolled in and poured big and heavy raindrops.

It rained two hours straight which caused him delay on his journey. The sudden downpour was torrential; it made the dirt roads slippery and muddy. _The scheduled bus must have gotten stuck somewhere_ he thought. He decided then that it would get him faster to Hellbrunn on foot. And by the time he reached the hill leading to his destination, it was almost the hour of the Divine Mercy prayer.

He was rounding the corner of the house to enter from the back door when he heard the loud grunt of a man followed by the slamming of the front door. His breath got caught in his throat when he saw a shimmering gold dangling from one of his clenched bloodied fists. The color on his face drained as images of numerous possible conditions of Maria flashed in his mind.

Once the man was down the hill and out of sight, he entered the dwelling he used to call home.

* * *

Dinner was served hours ago and Lieutenant Von Trapp was getting worried of the nonappearance of one of his personnel. The young lad who left early that morning had been staying with the Von Trapps for about a little over a year. He caught his attention in Christkindlmarkt about two years ago.

 _Nonnberg Abbey, and its orphanage, had a stand that year selling mostly Christmas cards and handmade dolls done by the orphans and the nuns. This particular boy was outside their stall, luring more patrons with his gift of quickly sketching anything requested. Since he and his three older children were there to buy presents for Agathe, he thought to give the young man a try. The children were already gathered in front of the boy as he finished sketching the face of a young lady seated directly across per her husband's request. The Lieutenant was looking at some of his previous works that were displayed and was instantly impressed._

 _The Lieutenant and his eldest daughter looked at each other with unspoken understanding. She smiled back when her father smiled suggestively, raised an open hand and gestured for the locket dangling from her neck._

 _"_ _Hello young man. I see you have a talented hand," he addressed the young artist._

 _The boy just gave him a shy smile._

 _"_ _Will you draw my wife's lovely face on that larger piece of paper?" he said pointing at the material. "It will be my children's present for her," he said as a matter of fact showing him an open oval locket, his wife's picture on the right and his picture on the left._

 _The boy beamed wider and went on to work right away._

 _When the boy finished, he handed his finished work to the Leiutenant and handed back the locket to the eldest daughter._

 _The Lieutenant furrowed his brows examining every line and every curve of his wife's beautiful face on the paper. The boy tensed but then the man gave him a satisfied smile. That's when the boy let out an audible sigh and relaxed._

 _"_ _Very well! You did a fine job young man. My wife will be very pleased to receive this piece of art made by a promising young local artist," he complimented while handing him a large sum of payment._

 _"_ _I am flattered. But sir, this is more than what is due." The boy was giving the Lieutenant the excess money back._

 _"_ _No, no, no. That's for you," amazed at the young man's honesty and humility._

 _"_ _Why thank you, sir."_

 _Since that day, when the Lieutenant was in town, he would catch him with patrons patiently waiting for their turn to have their portraits drawn._

 _One fateful day, he was surprised to see the boy was helping out a nun loading sacks of produce. As the cart was starting to leave, the nun bellowed to him, "Please be on time for dinner, my dear."_

 _It occurred to the Lieutenant that the boy was given more liberty than the rest of the orphans. He had been out of the walls of the orphanage even on school hours, too. The Lieutenant decided to approach him._

 _"_ _Hello again. I hope you do remember me," the Lieutenant started._

 _"_ _Why yes sir. Was your wife unhappy with my work?" The young man slightly confused with the sudden approach of the gentleman._

 _"_ _Oh no, no. I told you she would be delighted and she was. I was just curious, aren't you in the care of the orphanage? My apologies if I seem to be prying but when I am in town I always notice you on the streets of Salzburg."_

 _"_ _Oh," the young man clearly hesitated what and how much to say. "Well I am indeed an orphan, yet I uh begged the sisters if they would take me in exchange for my service. That's why I'm on the streets trying to earn more money when I am not needed in the orphanage and in the abbey."_

 _"_ _Oh, I see." He considered to say more for a moment. He wanted his words not to sound pitiful. "Would you… You know, we can definitely use an extra pair of hands in our home."_

 _The next couple of days, the boy said his gratitude and farewell to the nuns. He knew an offer like that couldn't be passed up and they thoroughly understood. The sooner he could save the amount he needed, the sooner he could fulfill a promise._

The Lieutenant was about to look for Frau Schmidt and inquire his young staff's whereabouts when Franz knocked on the door of his study.

"Sir, Gerard just called sending his apologies. He could not come back tonight but promised to be back here tomorrow morning before you need to leave."

"Did he sound alright?" He was worried.

"Uhm, he sounded a bit tired. The rains earlier must have made his trip quite difficult."

"Ah yes, naturally. That reminded me he mentioned that he was going outside of Aigen."

Franz nodded. "Is there anything else you need sir?"

"Nothing else, Franz. Thank you."

"Well good night sir."

"Good night then," the Lieutenant dismissed Franz.

* * *

It was close to daylight when both children reached their destination.

The dawn was breaking when the boy and the girl finally reached the stone walls of Nonnberg Abbey. The blue and black midnight sky was thinning as the sun's orange and yellow glow streaked the skies, reminding them of a brand new day. For several months they both prayed for this day to come. The day without a minute closer to their deaths in the hands of a man who should have loved them as his own.

Closing in the gap between them and the gates of the abbey, he jumped off his saddle and the boy guided his equally exhausted mule against the wall. It was a long journey for all three young travelers. The gentle creature was panting after they descended the mountains, crossed a river and then the empty town, and lastly, hiked up the hill where the abbey was situated. The boy produced a half empty bucket of water from the wagon it was hauling and offered to the parched mule. When the mule looked satisfied with its water, the boy reached over by the side of the wagon; his right hand gently caressed the girl's left cheek with the back of his fingers.

"Schatzi, we're here," he whispered happily before kissing her forehead. "We're safe now. He will not lay a hand on you ever again," he said pulling the blanket to keep her warm against the early morning air.

The young girl was trembling yet she managed a smile; she believed in the honesty of his statement. She remained laid down on the bale of hay while he rang the bell to announce their arrival.

Not a couple of minutes had passed when Sister Berthe came running to open the gates with a set of keys jingling in her hands. "My child, what happened?" she exclaimed as soon as she unlocked the gates, pulled him in and wrapped him in her arms. "Were they unkind to you?"

"No Sister Berthe. You see, I went to visit, uh…" He couldn't continue. He gestured with a nod of his to the direction of his wagon. "Come quickly!"

The nun gasped at Maria's condition. She hurriedly scooped her up and frowned how light she weighed on her slim arms. They brought her to a sick room of the orphanage, adjacent to the abbey.

"Will you please wake up Sister Margareta. Tell her Maria is here," the nun ordered the boy.

"Oh Maria, what had he done to you?" She said sotto voce.

* * *

A/N: So The Von Trapps had been residing in Aigen even before Agathe's death in this fic. ;)

Also I'm adding Romance to the Genre and OC to the characters now that boy is revealed not to be Georg.

I hope y'all still interested and reading. Please write a review for any comment, frustration, or suggestion. Have a great Fourth of July!


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